Not Long
by Book2romantic
Summary: The law isn't always perfect. But justice needs to be. Past wrongs aren't so easily ignored or forgotten as we sometimes hope. For Bronze and Leon's Darkward contest.


**"In The Dark" Contest**

**Pen Name**: Book2romantic**  
Title**: Not Long  
**Summary**: The law isn't always perfect. But justice needs to be. Past wrongs aren't so easily ignored or forgotten as we sometimes hope.  
**Word Count**: 2009 (or 2208, if you ask fanfiction instead of Word)

**For Rules and Other Submissions, please visit**: http://www(DOT)fanfiction(D0T)net/u/2003775/

Oh, my head. God, was I even at home? That damn bright light didn't look familiar. I shouldn't have drank so much last night. With Rose out of town though, I just didn't have anything to do. She kept-

"Not drinking last night wouldn't have kept you from not remembering, Mr. McCarthy."

Who the hell was that? I tried to lift my head but there was… there was something holding it down. Holy shit, there was something wrapped around my arms and legs too. Around my whole fucking body. What the fuck was going on?

"Who's there?" I demanded.

"I suppose that perhaps it would have, in that I would not then have drugged you and dragged you back here."

It was a man's voice. That was probably worse, because maybe with a woman, I could just charm my way out of it. Whatever this was.

"What do you want?" I tried to wiggle out of whatever was holding me. Was it… duct tape? What the hell. "I'm a very rich man, I can get you whatever you want."

"You're correct in your supposition. The one you didn't speak. It is duct tape."

Did he just… no, there's no way.

"You haven't been right since then though. Emmett McCarthy, formerly of Tennessee. You are actually a rather poor man. Recovering alcoholic. Jobless for the past several months. And of course, the reason that you drink like that in the first place."

No. No no no no. This wasn't possible. No one knew about that. No one but Rose, and she wouldn't tell.

"Do you really think that there is anything I don't know about you, Mr. McCarthy?"

"You…. You can't!" I practically gasped. Rose wouldn't tell!

"Rose didn't tell me," the voice answered.

She better not. Not after what we did to those men.

"So Rose was involved in that too?"

He knew about that? That was what this was about? I flexed my arms, trying to get some space. I just needed to get a hand free. Maybe I could stall him.

"Are you kidding?" I asked, gulping for air as I tried to turn my head towards him. "Rose was the one who actually did them all. I only held some of them. But those guys, those guys deserved it."

The things they had done to her. She could hardly even talk about it. But I had found her, and I could tell. I knew those wounds. I had seen the bastards walking away, laughing. They thought that they could just do this sort of thing with no consequences? They'd learned how wrong they were.

"Perhaps we aren't so different, Mr. McCarthy."

"What do you mean?" A shape blocked the harsh light that I had been trying to ignore. After a moment to adjust, my eyes took in the face above me. "Jesus, you're just a kid."

He couldn't have been more than seventeen. The girls at his high school must have thought it was unfair. I mean, I was good looking, but I had sports to make me stand out back when I was in school. I had always been bigger than everyone my age.

He had green eyes like nothing I'd ever seen before. The color reminded me of the emerald necklace I had gotten rose. But the way they looked at me. Most eyes are supposed to be a window into the soul. His were just a blank wall. They suddenly sprang to life.

"Fuck!" This fucking kid! "You fucking just sliced my cheek open!"

"Yes," he said, grinning, the blankness gone. Now he looked like a fucking seven year old on Christmas morning.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I demanded.

"Wrong with me?" His face disappeared, and I blinked, exposed to that harsh light again. I heard him pace around to the other side of whatever room we were in. He didn't sound like he was walking on a normal floor.

He popped up on my other side, cutting out the light again. "What is wrong with humanity, Emmett? My only problem is that I can hear what everyone around me thinks."

He leaned down, so that his eyes were just inches from mine. "Do you have any idea what that is like?"

I twisted my right arm back and forth. It moved a little. I just needed to keep him talking.

He pulled his head back, but stayed in view. He ran a hand through messy hair that was almost as distinct as his eyes. It was like a penny, coppery, or maybe bronze. I'd need to remember when I was out of here.

"Do you have any idea what people were thinking in that bar last night, Mr. McCarthy?"

"How the hell should I know?" I demanded, trying to twist both arms, without him noticing. Shit! I could feel the tape stretching my skin. I'd probably be missing quite a few arm hairs when I finally managed to get out of here.

"Those women you were flirting with? They were thinking about how your wife probably couldn't handle you." What did I care? I wasn't going to do anything with those women. Rose was perfect, the most beautiful woman in the world.

"They liked the idea of how hurt she would be if you fucked them. They wanted to ruin your marriage." Bitches. But I didn't care about them.

"Or those other guys? Jealous that those women wanted you, and weren't trying to fuck up their lives." Those little piss brained ….

"That bartender? The one you like? He was thinking of all the things he would like to do to your precious Rosalie."

He what? I would kill that little. "Yes, he remembered exactly what she looked like. And he had a very active imagination, thinking of what she would do if she got a few more drinks into her."

I felt his breath on my ear. "He thinks that it would be fun to hold her down and fuck her. That she would be even tighter and hotter if she was begging him not to hurt her and let her go. But that she'd really like it."

I jerked my head at him, and just had the tape snap it right back down. I would kill that fucker! He wasn't fit to even lay eyes upon Rose!

"But you, Mr. McCarthy, were the only one thinking about people that they had killed."

"That wasn't me, I told you," I yanked at my bonds again. "That was Rose!"

"Love her so much you would try to throw her to me in your place?" the boy asked, appearing above me again. I felt my sweat drip down into the cut in my cheek, making it sting.

"Fuck you," I spat at him. A tight lipped grin appeared on his face.

"I wasn't talking about her though, was I?" Impossible. He couldn't-

"Do you really still think I can't read minds? Or just that yours is somehow special?" Oh shit, he was right.

"I'm actually here about those two 'slip ups' that you had, all those years ago, off in the woods. Do you realize that is why you try to help Rose so desperately? In your head, you're trying to atone for what you did that night. Trying to make up for two people you-"

"I'll kill you! That is not why I love her." I strained against the tape. This time it stretched, letting me lift my head an inch. But it took a huge effort to do it, and I collapsed back, gasping again. "Just leave her out of this."

"You are not really in charge here. And I thought it showed how similar we are Emmett. You had to make sure that justice was done for what happened to Rose. You couldn't just let someone get away with that."

He was right. He really was. It wasn't right that someone just get away with anything like that. I nodded. "If that's what this is about."

"It is." The kid supplied. It seemed strange that someone who was practically a child had to be the one to take justice into his hands like this. But it was necessary. I couldn't do it on my own.

"I understand," I said. "Could-"

"I don't think Rose did anything wrong," he said. I breathed a sigh of relief at that. She hadn't. She'd done what was right, when justice had been laying down on the job.

"Would you make sure she's ok?"

He didn't answer. We just sat there quietly for a while.

I heard him move finally. "Do you want me to drug you again?"

"Why would you do that?" I hadn't done anything to make it easier for those two girls.

"You're right. I don't know what I was thinking." He appeared in my view, holding a knife. It shined, brilliantly clean. Knives for this sort of thing should be as clean as the job that they do aren't. It was perfect. He had both hands wrapped around its hilt, so that all I could see was a slight guard to make sure his hands wouldn't slide down the blade.

He shut his eyes, as he held it there over me. It almost looked like he was praying, except that he raised his head, as if basking in the glory of God.

I must have blinked. I didn't even see him move. I heard a crack, before I felt anything. But I could feel it. God could I feel it. I couldn't breathe anymore. The blade had looked so clean and smooth, like it should just slide right in. But I could feel everything catching on it. It was so much rougher than it looked. My lungs couldn't move up or down it. Twitches radiated out from it, or towards it, or both. Every little movement sent agony along that sharp shining blade.

"How-" I couldn't finish asking how long it would take me to bleed out. To die. I was wrapped tight in tape. It might staunch the bleeding for a long time. He could go get help. Because I didn't want to die anymore. I didn't care about justice any more. I just wanted to go back to Rose and hold her, and let her feel safe even after everything she had gone through. I wanted her to make me feel like I was a good man, like I was worth something in spite of everything I had done.

I couldn't just die like this. Rose needed me. She had fixed me and I had a job now, we just needed to sell the house here and get an apartment in the city. God it hurt. It shouldn't hurt like this it was so smooth. Something so clean shouldn't be able to hurt like that. If it's so clean it should just snip the problem off so quickly.

My lungs were burning! Not just where the blade was in me. I couldn't breathe. I needed to breathe. I had to get back to Rose. I felt something in my mouth, and a metal taste reached me before the smell did. I couldn't even scream while my chest spasmed, throwing more blood into my throat and up into my mouth. I gagged around it, compounding my agony.

Where was he? Where was the boy who had done this? I couldn't see him. I couldn't see anything? Where did the light go? Why did he turn it off. I couldn't taste the blood any more. Why was I all alone? I wanted Rose. Rose, where are you?

The pain started to lessen, and I felt a hand brush my cheek. I wasn't alone. Rose was there. Only she had fingers that soft, or made me feel better with just a touch. Roes wouldn't leave me like this. I reached out to her, but I couldn't feel my arms. I wanted to hold her again. She felt so good pressed against me. Like everything would be ok. Like I-


End file.
